


12 Days of Practice

by tsvtrying (eveofjune)



Series: Merry Christmas, tsvtwt [2]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Eddy and Brett as teenagers, Fluff, Gen, M/M, can be read as platonic/romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveofjune/pseuds/tsvtrying
Summary: day 2 of christmas giftset to tsvtwt
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Merry Christmas, tsvtwt [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2059164
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	12 Days of Practice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [esther (@twosetriangle on twitter)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=esther+%28%40twosetriangle+on+twitter%29).



> thank you again to fel and cia for beta-ing this at the last minute.

_ for esther _

**12 Days of Practice**

_ 20 December 2006 _

  
  


Brett looks out the window, watching the snow fall. It’s rare to see snow in Australia, and Brett is enthralled. The flakes float down lightly, white and unblemished. Brett wants to reach out and catch them, but his teacher’s voice brings him solidly back to his classroom.

“Mr Yang, would you mind telling me the answer to question 6?” 

_ Shit.  _ Brett hadn’t been listening. He looks helplessly at the whiteboard, trying to work it out as fast as he can in his head.  _ Huang Laoshi  _ staring at him impatiently is not helping with his stress levels.

Then he feels a light tap on his leg, and he looks down to see his seatmate passing him his worksheet discreetly under the table. 

“8 and negative 10,” He replies finally, heaving a sigh of relief.  _ Huang Laoshi  _ squints at him suspiciously for a few seconds, and Brett smiles back weakly. 

“Sally? Question 7 please.” 

Brett lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and turns to his best friend. “Thanks Eddy,” he mouths quietly and Eddy only slips him a scrap of rough paper with the words,  _ ‘You owe me one.’  _ written on it in his scrawly handwriting. Brett smiles and writes back,  _ ‘Bubble tea?’  _

* * *

  
  


_ Oh, the weather outside is frightful _

_ But the fire is so delightful _

_ And since we've no place to go _

_ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow _

* * *

“Have you ever seen it snow in Brisbane before?”

Eddy shakes his head, chewing on a tapioca pearl. “It  _ doesn’t  _ snow in Brisbane, what are you talking about?” 

“Wait what?” Brett stops in his tracks.

Eddy stares at him oddly. “Is that what you were daydreaming about today in class?”

Brett doesn’t say anything.

“ _ Bro.  _ Were you actually hallucinating? There isn’t snow in Brisbane. There never is.” Eddy shakes his head in mild disappointment and Brett shakes his head to clear it. “Come on Brett, don’t lose your head now; I still need a sane duet partner for the Christmas talent show tonight.”

Brett grunts in approval, still a tiny bit lost in his own world.  _ I swear I saw snow. Did I actually imagine it? _

* * *

_ Dashing through the snow _

_ In a one-horse open sleigh _

_ Over fields we go _

_ Laughing all the way _

* * *

Eddy rubs his hands together, blowing on them gently. Even if it doesn’t snow, it’s still pretty cold, and Eddy has never been good with cold. If Brett was here he’d let him hold hands with him in his pocket, but Brett’s late for the concert and Eddy is worried out of his mind. Their teacher is incredibly strict, and if he’s too late she’ll give up their slot in the show.

“Come on Brett,” He whispers under his breath, keeping his eyes fixed on the backstage door. “Where are you?” 

The minutes tick by and their violin teacher taps her foot more and more impatiently and her nostrils flare harder and harder each time. 

“He’s not coming, Eddy.” Ms Chang says finally, with a hint of sympathy in her voice. She knows how much Eddy wanted this opportunity to play. She stands to tell the organiser that they won’t be performing, and Eddy sighs and bows his head in disappointment. 

Then in a whirlwind of noise and colour, Brett bursts into the backstage area with 2 minutes to showtime. He hurriedly pulls off his coat and gloves, under the furious glare of Ms Chang. 

_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.  _ Eddy hears from where he is sitting. Brett is opening his violin case now, and tuning while being screamed at by Ms Chang. Eddy rubs his hands together, hoping they won’t freeze and break off in the middle of the performance. He’d warmed up ages ago, he’s just been waiting for Brett. 

“Sorry Eddy,” Brett finally says when they stand by the edge of the curtain, waiting to be announced. Eddy nods, half from fear, half from anger. His jaw is clenched tight, and his teeth are grit so hard his mouth hurts. 

“—and from our very own Brisbane, we have Brett Yang and Eddy Chen, 14 and 13 years old, playing Paganini Jingle Bells.”

There is an uproar of applause, and Eddy hears his mother screaming, “That’s my son!” to anyone who will listen. He cringes while Brett sniggers behind him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he steps out into the limelight. 

* * *

  
  


_ Jingle bells, jingle bells _

_ Jingle all the way _

_ Oh what fun it is to ride and sing _

_ In a one-horse open sleigh _

* * *

They finish to a rousing round of applause, and they take their bows and run off stage. 

Filled with post-performance glee, Eddy forgets to be mad at Brett. He lets him hug him so tight, relishing the warmth. He holds on for just a bit too long, but Brett doesn't seem to notice. 

"All that practice paid off, hey," Brett says when Eddy finally lets him go. 

"Definitely."

* * *

_ 12 days ago _

"Hey Brett! Eddy! Smash Bros on at Mark's, he's got the new limited edition; you guys coming?" 

Brett sighs and turns. "Sorry bro, we gotta practise." 

"Seriously? Dude, you guys have been practising non-stop this past week! It's like you don't even have a life anymore." 

"Haha, yeah. We don't," Brett replies truthfully, albeit with a touch of bitterness in his tone. 

"Bye Steven," Eddy calls dejectedly. 

After shrugging off their layers and greeting Aunty Yang, they trudge up to Brett's room. 

"Okay so what do we have today?" Brett asks, because he doesn't take note of what Ms Chang tells them during their lessons, Eddy does.

"Our performance piece, and Mendelssohn and Mozart violin concerto," Eddy rattles off from the little notebook he writes everything in. 

"Are we seriously playing concertos? These scores don't look quite right." 

"Probably the easy version," Eddy answers. 

Brett shakes his head. "What a scam."

"I know right? It's like Ms Chang doesn't think we're ready." 

"Ah whatever. Let's start," Brett decides. "Scales?" 

They look at each other. "Nah." 

* * *

_ 11 days ago _

"You know maybe there is a reason why we aren't playing actual concertos yet," Brett muses, as they get stuck on the same passage for the tenth time. 

"You don't say." 

It takes a while for them to finally get past that passage, and Eddy completely ruins Brett's good mood with, "Bach partitas next." 

They spend the rest of the day busting their fingers and violins over all three, and Brett decides it's enough for the day before Eddy can suggest the next form of torture. 

* * *

_ 10 days ago _

The doorbell rings at 9am sharp the next day, and Brett wakes up to his brother calling him from downstairs. 

He drags his feet to change out of his pyjamas and brush his teeth, and meet Eddy with a sigh. 

Eddy's way too energetic for a Tuesday morning, waving the scores of four Flesch scales in Brett's face. 

"Oh so we actually have to practise our scales now? Damn. I should have told  _ Di di  _ not to let you in."

But as usual he's joking, and they run through each scale, then hunker down on the partitas and concertos. 

When they finally set down their violins, Brett turns to Eddy. "If you wake me up before noon tomorrow, I will force feed you mushrooms." 

* * *

_ 9 days ago _

When Brett opens the door at 9:30am, he seriously considers slamming it in Eddy's face. 

"I'm sorry! But we've got five Dont etudes today and there might not be enough time." The words tumble out of Eddy's mouth in a rush. "Not the mushrooms, please." 

Brett actually closes the door.

* * *

_ 8 days ago _

Eddy's smarter today: he comes after lunch. He's afraid Brett won't open the door again if he closes it this time, or will actually force feed him mushrooms. He almost gags at the thought. 

Eddy knocks on the door. "Brett?" 

Aunty Yang opens the door today, and sends him up to Brett's room with a tired smile. 

He hears violin-playing coming from the room, and he opens it to see Brett already starting.

At the sound of the door opening, Brett looks up with a warm smile. "You're late Eddy! We've got seven Rode caprices today, come on!" 

Eddy returns his best friend's smile, filing away this little memory for future reference.  _ Don't bother Brett Yang before noon, and he'll be sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the day.  _

* * *

_ 7 days ago _

__ "Are you nervous?" Eddy asks on Friday afternoon, a week before their performance. They're tackling the Ysaÿe sonatas today, and they've already made multiple jokes about it not being easy. 

"Not yet," Brett replies. "I probably will be though. Why?" 

Eddy allows the first hint of fear to be shown on his face. "What if I get shaky bow?" 

Brett laughs. "Then you act like it's what you were meant to do the whole time. We're playing a new piece; no one except you, me and Ms Chang will know." 

Eddy doesn't look convinced. "I'm still scared though." 

Brett puts his arm around him. "Hey. I'll be there on stage with you. And if I'm there, what's there to be frightened of?" 

* * *

_ 6 days ago _

Eddy sleeps in this morning; Brett's coming over. Aunty Yang has had enough of them for the last five days, and has sent them over to Aunty Chen's with an easily placed phone call. 

The doorbell rings and Eddy shoots out of bed. He runs downstairs in his pyjamas, too excited to change. 

Brett grins at him from the other side of the screen door. "The tables have turned, haven't they?" 

Eddy smirks and opens the screen door. 

Brett looks at him, giving him a once-over. "You couldn't have bothered to put on some actual clothes?" 

"I just woke up bro." 

Brett coughs and turns away. "Eddy please go change and  _ brush your teeth _ ." 

Eddy laughs and runs back upstairs, Brett trailing behind him. Five minutes later, they're sitting in his room, trying to learn Brahms' Hungarian Dances. 

"Hey Eddy."

"Hmm?" 

"Are you sure Ms Chang asked us to learn  _ all eight  _ Hungarian Dances or are you just messing with me."

"Uhh…" 

* * *

_ 5 days ago _

"Hey Brett, I checked." Eddy says, when they pack up their violins down after a particularly gruelling session. "We didn't actually have to do all eight." 

Brett isn't actually listening. "Mm. All eight what?" 

"All eight Hungarian Dances. Just the fifth one." 

That catches Brett's attention. "Are you serious right now?" He asks, voice dangerously low. 

Eddy swallows. "Um, yes?" 

Brett has to physically fight off the urge to strangle Eddy. "Please tell me we actually had to do all nine Kreutzer studies." 

Eddy doesn't think he'll be able to live if he tells the truth so he just nods. 

* * *

_ 4 days ago _

With their concert so close, Brett is becoming more and more motivated, while Eddy spirals rapidly in the opposite direction. 

Brett actually has to hit him with a pillow (aided by a rather enthusiastic Belle) to get him to wake up. 

"Come  _ on _ , Eddy! We've got the Bartók duets today, you love those! All ten of them bro, WAKE UP!" 

Eddy only groans and turns over. 

* * *

_ 3 days ago  _

"What if we take a break?" Eddy cries desperately on Monday afternoon. 

Oliver and Donna turn to Brett. He immediately puts his hands up in defence. "Hey don't look at me; if you guys wanna take a break go for it." 

The violist and cellist carefully put their instruments back into their cases before trooping into the kitchen to ask Aunty Chen for a glass of water. 

"Bro did Haydn really have to write  _ eleven  _ quartets?"

"I think the question is 'Did Ms Chang really ask us to practise  _ all  _ of them?'" 

Eddy shrugs noncommittally. "I don't even know anymore." He buries his head in his hands. "God, I'm so tired." 

"Same," Brett sighs. "You'd think we'd at least get a little break during the Christmas holidays, but we haven't gotten any time off this whole month at all." 

Then he looks up, an idea shining in his eyes. "How about the day before the concert, we take a whole day off. No practising, just relaxing." 

Eddy looks unsure. "I don't know…" 

"Oh come on bro, you were just complaining about how tired you were. By the time Thursday rolls around, we'll be done with the Paganini caprices. We deserve the break. Come on Eddy." Then he winks. "I'll buy you bubble tea?" 

Eddy breaks into a smile. "Okay." 

* * *

_ 2 days ago _

It's the last day of their holiday practice period, and they're slacking just a little bit, to be honest. But Paganini is hard, and they're rightfully exhausted. 

When Brett leaves and Eddy closes the door at last, he revels in the promise of no practice tomorrow. 

* * *

_ Yesterday _

They're sitting on the ice cold swings, sipping on their bubble tea. 

It's a nice silence, and Eddy closes his eyes to enjoy it. 

"See?" Brett says. "I told you you needed a break. To think I needed to promise you bubble tea to get you to come out. You can never say no to bubble tea." 

Eddy only hums in response. Brett thinks Eddy's weakness is bubble tea. That's not true. Eddy's weakness is Brett. He can never say no to Brett. 

* * *

_ Chestnuts roasting on an open fire _

_ Jack Frost nipping at your nose _

_ Yuletide carols being sung by a choir _

_ And folks dressed up like Eskimos _

* * *

The after party is in the warmth of Aunty Yang's place, where the fire is lit and there is an endless bounty of cookies and cakes. 

Aunty Yang and Aunty Chen chatter away in Taiwanese, laughing about something that neither Brett nor Eddy understand. 

Uncle Chen and Uncle Yang are outside at the front door, puffing away at cigarettes in the only time of the year that they won't get told off by their wives. The smoke billows in the wind, but the lights from Mrs Ryan's across the road still shine bright enough to be seen. 

Belle is tinkling away on the piano, and Brett's little brother has fallen asleep in an armchair in front of it, drifting off to Bach's Christmas Oratorio. 

Brett and Eddy curl up in the same blanket (it's a miracle they both still fit) in front of the fireplace, watching it dance to the music of its own crackle. They're in their own world, in a tight bubble that belongs to Brett and Eddy, and only to Eddy and Brett. 

Eddy's rubbing his hands together again, trying to conserve whatever warmth he can. Brett notices, and pulls Eddy's hands between his own, rubbing his fingers one by one and blowing on them gently. 

"You get cold way too easily, you know," Brett says softly. Eddy almost doesn't hear, he's trying to lean deeper into Brett's warmth, resting his head on his shoulder. 

"Mm," He replies, yawning. "Easy for you to say; you're a human heater."

Brett chuckles softly, and Eddy feels it reverberate from his chest. He can feel every rise and fall of Brett's breath, every deep inhale and soft sigh. He closes his eyes. Brett smells of wood, cinnamon, vanilla, and  _ home _ . 

Everything is still, and Eddy's chest rises and falls in unison with Brett's. He's almost falling asleep when,

"I'm sorry for being late today." 

"It's okay," Eddy responds. "Just buy me another bubble tea and I'll forgive you." 

Eddy opens an eye cheekily at his best friend, who rolls his eyes back at him. 

"You're going to get diabetes from all the bubble tea you're drinking." 

"Some things are worth getting diabetes for." Truth is, Eddy has already forgiven him.

Brett gives him a smack. "Bro if you die from kidney failure or something I will kill you." Then he softens. "I need my best friend." 

Eddy's breath hitches, and for a moment he doesn't know how to answer. 

"Aww," he finally replies. "I'm your best friend? I didn't know."

Brett gives him a hard nudge. "No, I just need a duet partner and you're the only one who isn't complete shit." 

"Oh admit it, Brett: you love me." 

Brett stares at him long and hard, and Eddy's heart begins to beat a little bit faster. 

"Yeah. I do." 

**Author's Note:**

> i took 3 days to write this, and actually only finished it this morning oops.
> 
> for esther @twosetriangle on twitter: i hope u enjoyed it 👉👈
> 
> see you tomorrow for day 3!


End file.
